The Starvation Games
by Sootopolis
Summary: Ella Stork arrives in the district of Spoons, the setting for the yearly Starvation Games. Find out how she battles to survive, uh, high school, while dealing with two gorgeous love interests! A ridiculous story just for the lulz!
1. A Maiden's Heartthrobbing Beginning!

**Prologue**

_My name is Ella Stork. I am seventeen years old. My home is in the district of Spoons_._ I was in the Starvation Games. Other girls hate me. _I tell myself this over and over again, whenever I feel I am in danger of gaining anything resembling common sense. So like, this is totally my story.

**Chapter One  
>A Maiden's Heartthrobbing Beginning!<strong>

Ella is short for Cinderella, which is only mildly embarrassing. I mean, it's better than being named after an aquatic tuber, right? And I get to feel good about myself, being named after a Disney princess and all.

I don't really need to do much to live up to my name, either, since besides cooking and cleaning, I don't have anything that could legitimately be called a hobby or an interest in anything. Well, besides boys, of course. But, I have to remind myself, I am a teenaged girl, so it's not unusual that my life revolves around nothing but the opposite sex.

I just don't understand why, but everyone around me is in awe of me. Many times, I've heard myself referred to as a kickass rebel chick, but I don't like to let things like that get to my head, so I continue to act like I have no idea what they're talking about. Well, I really _don't_ get what they're on about. I'm totally average.

Well, anyway, I came to the small, lame district of Spoons after I got kicked out of yet another school. I've had to move around a lot because of it. I'm always getting into trouble with Teh Ruling Eevil Capitol, since girls pick on me all the time. They get really jealous of the attention I receive from boys. I just can't understand all the attention, since I'm awfully plain and average looking.

I mean, look at me. My face is delicate and heart shaped. I'm olive skinned. I've got long black hair which is glossy as a raven's wing, and I normally wear it loose so that it can blow about in the wind in a really dramatic fashion. I've also got amazing gray eyes which get really cold and steely-looking when I'm bored and aloof, kind of like an ice princess, only a Disney one. I call this my Emotionless Girl Mode.

When I'm angry, however, my eyes smolder and go all smoky gray. That way, people can tell when I'm feeling all fiery and passionate. It's perfect that I can communicate these things in a non-verbal way. I like the fact that I have so many contrasting facets to my character. Well, okay, only two, but you know what I mean. But I like to think these features make me a well-rounded character.

My mom is totally useless, like all females who aren't me generally are. She totally fell apart after my dad left her. It's like she's only half a person now. So anyway, I got sick of her and her uselessness so I left her to move in with my totally awesome and much-better-because-he-is-male dad.

I now live in Spoons with my grumpy dad Chuck, who is the Head Peacekeeper here. Oh, by the way, I'm just going to refer to that as HP from now on, since Head Peacekeeper involves too many syllables.

My grouchy dad Chuck is more like a friend than a father, so I don't have to bother with unnecessary things like pretending to respect him, so I just call him Chuck to his face. Of course he doesn't mind, I can do anything I want because I'm Daddy's Little Princess. I mean Daddy's Little Disney Princess. I mean Chuck's Little... Ouch, my head hurts.

Although Chuck's the HP, he has a Disabled Rebel Outlaw Ethnic Minority Friend, whose name is Bobby. Bobby's in a wheelchair. They do all kinds of neat stuff together that I would normally find totally unrealistic, because they are total opposites, but they totally are convincing as best buddies, so I totally buy it.

Right after I arrived in Spoons, I jumped out of Chuck's car and ran into the house. I took all my stuff to the tiny bathroom and just generally went, "Ew, Chuck, you actually live like this?"

I know it might seem illogical, but for some reason, instead of leaving my toiletries in the bathroom, I keep them in my bedroom and drag them to the bathroom every time I take a shower and stuff. It's one of my quirks. I'm told everybody has them.

Not long after I got settled in, Disabled Bobby arrived with his buff, olive-skinned son. Chuck and DB soon left us alone to go watch TV.

"Hi, Ella," the buff son said, striding up to me in the front yard. "Betcha don't remember me, huh?"

Instead of speaking, I closed my eyes and wrinkled my nose in a way I knew he'd find endearing. Then I tripped over, even though there was no obstruction on the ground. I'm just really clumsy that way but guys love it because it's super cute. They fall over themselves to catch me and don't at all look at me like I'm a moron for tripping over for absolutely no reason at all.

Luckily, I fell straight into the buff dude's arms. Even luckier for me, the buff dude was shirtless and totally ripped. I leaned into his awesome six-pack and inhaled his scent, which for some weird reason smelled kind of like this old wolf pelt that my great-great-grandma keeps in her attic.

I looked up at him and batted my smoldering gray eyes at him. I have no idea why, because I'm not attractive at all, but he almost spontaneously combusted right then.

"You really don't remember me, huh?" he whispered huskily. I felt the deep rumble of his words vibrate in his awesomely ripped chest.

I tipped my head to the side, letting my long, glossy raven hair fly out and smack him in the face, and acted like I was thinking deeply about it.

He instantly got super protective of me when he realized I didn't know the answer to his question. The one about not remembering who he was, I mean.

"Catpee, it's me, Gaylob," he said, when I continued to look puzzled.

"Lulwat, you're gay? WTF? I never knew. That's a total waste of prime beef, you know," I said.

"No, it's me, Gaylob, remember? Your Studly Childhood Friend. We used to go hunting together."

"Oh, yeah, I totally remember now," I said. It was such a facepalm moment. How could I have forgotten? It was all coming back to me now.

"We met in the woods one day back when I still lived with my mom and was visiting Chuck here in Spoons. You were three years younger than me and already six feet tall. You misheard me and thought I said my name was Catpee when I said Cinderella. We have the same gray eyes and black hair, and could pass for siblings."

"Yeah, that's it, you do remember!" he exclaimed. "So, wanna go make out in the woods?"

I got tempted for a second but then I realized he must be kidding, since I'm not attractive at all.

"Oh, sorry Catpee, you're still all innocent. I shouldn't corrupt a sweet princess like you. I know, let's go to La Pull at the weekend."

"What's La Pull?" I enquired, hypnotized by his musky, wolfy scent.

"It's where I live with the rest of the Quilty Tribe. Come on, you'll love it."

"Okay," I said, readily agreeing. I knew right away I could trust him. It didn't matter that I barely knew him anymore. After all, we were Childhood Friends. Also, he just had this really trustworthy look in his gray eyes that were so like mine, since we could be siblings. The fact that he also happened to be totally ripped and shirtless right now was irrelevant. I just trusted him.

We hung out all afternoon and Gaylob showed me all sorts of neat stuff, like his motorbike and what edible roots and berries look like. I got kind of bored then, because it meant he wasn't focusing completely on me, but then he pulled out this awesome bow and a quiver of arrows from a hole in a tree trunk! And then he posed with them for a while and it looked totally cooler because he was shirtless the whole time. I pretended to be admiring the bow while secretly admiring his six-pack. Then Chuck called me in to cook him dinner, so I did.

I was sad to see Gaylob leave, but then I remembered that I was going to see him again on Saturday. I squeed in my room for an hour, fantasizing about what outfit I would wear.

After that I cooked a dinner of lamb stew with plums in our tiny, lame kitchen. I burned the water but Chuck said he didn't mind, and that my adorable clumsiness is my most endearing trait.

_Chapter One End_


	2. It's Not My Fault That I'm Popular!

**Chapter Two  
>It's Not My Fault That I'm Popular!<strong>

It was my first day of school at Spoons High. I really wished that Gaylob could've attended with me too, since it would have been so incredibly awesome to show up with such a Studly Guy on my arm, but unfortunately he already went to school in La Pull.

As I was driving, I was feeling so pleased with myself that I'd remembered to dress down. I didn't want a repeat of all my other first days in other towns, when mean, nasty girls tried to mutilate me because they thought their boyfriends were checking me out.

For one terrible moment, those mental scars almost overwhelmed me. But then I closed my eyes and took deep, calming breaths. Then I shook my head to clear my mind. Then I opened my eyes, and from the blaring of car horns, I realized I'd accidentally veered off course and was driving in the wrong direction down the highway. I gave my head another cute little shake and watched my long, glossy, raven hair settle around me like soft, downy fur. But only for a moment. Right now I needed to focus all my energy on getting back into the right lane of traffic.

A Handsome Dad passed me and raised his hand. He must be giving me a sympathetic wave because of my blunder, I thought, so I flashed him my finest, most winning smile. I got a brief image of his mouth dropping open in speechlessness before he disappeared from view. I allowed myself a smidgeon of smugness. He totally understands that I'm new here and haven't yet gotten the hang of my unfamiliar surroundings. Plus, he must've been captivated by my utterly charming smile. The people of Spoons are surprisingly friendly!

After about thirty minutes of my best, most careful driving, I pulled up in the school parking lot in the ancient, noisy truck that Chuck had bought me. It's so great to just get magically given stuff without having to work for it at all.

He'd presented it to me on my birthday. He made a huge deal out of it at the time, too, wrapping it in a giant silver parachute and letting it float down from the sky. Luckily, I just happened to be in the front yard when it arrived, landing just two inches away from me, and I remember thinking how marvelous his timing was. Like, it was the exact thing I needed right now! How had he known? It was as if he'd read my mind.

On the other hand, I was also pretty ashamed to be seen in it, since it's not flashy at all. It's so annoying that Chuck's kind of poor, even though he's the HP. Apparently that doesn't mean much in a poor district like Spoons, though. That's why Chuck's always over in the Hubcap. That's the black market, and it's where DB and his buff son, I mean Gaylob, trade fish and small mammals that they shoot in the eye with arrows, like squirrels.

Well, back to the truck. It's not fair on me at all. I wanted to cry tears of angsty rage over it. Chuck just has no idea how tough it is being a seventeen-year old girl. I really wanted to just curl up into a fetal ball and die because of that, but I knew that I had to be brave. For Prim. I mean Rue. I'm not sure who they are, exactly, but those names just popped into my head.

For a brief moment, my brow furrowed in concentration. I felt like I should be remembering something, but I couldn't think what. Since thinking wouldn't gain me anything but wrinkles right now, I tried not to, and instead concentrated on looking my best while I drove into school.

So anyway, I hadn't even parked the truck properly before hordes of boys descended upon me. They surrounded the truck, all staring at me with hungry eyes. It must just be because I'm a new face around here, I thought with a dramatic sigh. No way is it because they find an average, raven-haired, steely-gray eyed girl like me attractive. Because I'm not attractive at all.

As soon as I got out of the truck, a blond boy came up to me. There was a pile of boys lying prone and bloody on the ground surrounding my truck, and the blond boy stepped all over them to reach me. I realized that some time between parking my truck and opening the door, they must have beaten each other to a bloody pulp then collapsed from exhaustion.

"Hi, I'm Mikey," the blond boy said, like an eager puppy, if a puppy could talk. He even had puppy dog eyes, which were brown, just like a real puppy's.

"Wha-" I'd started to say, "Whatever!" but then I suddenly thought this guy could be useful. I should be nice to him for now, and ditch him when someone better came along.

"Wow," I said instead.

"Wow?" he looked at me uncertainly, like he was expecting me to say something more, but I couldn't think of anything else to say that didn't sound like "Whatever!" so instead I flashed him a megawatt smile that I knew was guaranteed to win him over.

"Yeah, wow!" I repeated. My mind was racing over what to say next, but the mere act of thinking was so distracting that I fell over, straight into Puppy Boy's arms. He was no way near as buff as Gaylob, and kind of short, too, so I quickly extricated myself from his icky embrace and leaned against my truck instead.

"I'm Ella Foreverevergreen Stork," I told him, once I'd recovered my wits. I'm not at all witty, but boys often tell me I am. I have no idea why they tell me that when it clearly isn't true. I'm painfully average. "Ella's short for Cinderella," I explained. "But I prefer just Ella."

"Cool name. Okay, Ella, I'll show you around," Puppy Boy said.

I followed him into school, stepping over the bloody pile of bodies as I went. I could feel ten million pairs of male eyes boring into me. I can't imagine why, because I'm not attractive at all.

_Chapter Two End_


	3. Freshbaked! The King of Bread

**Chapter Three  
>Fresh-baked! The King of Bread<strong>

I'd had the most exhausting morning. Ever. From the minute I stepped into homeroom I was besieged by every single boy in there, demanding to know my name, rank and serial number. I mean my three measurements. I felt them ogling me and it was like, totally disgusting.

I totally wouldn't have minded if there'd been even one hottie among them, but every boy in there ranged from Meh to Bleh to simply Ugh. So far, there was no one who could even begin to compete with my special Gaylob. I felt a fluttering in my heart and began to wonder if this was the stirring of a new love.

I totally didn't want to encourage those grotties, so I went into my Emotionless Girl Mode, which if you remember my explanation from earlier, is when I appear all bored and aloof by making my eyes go all cold and steely looking. Unfortunately, the Ice Princess persona only made them want me even more. Sigh.

I couldn't account for it, since I'd taken great pains to dress as plainly as possible. I wasn't even wearing any makeup. There were plenty more glamorous girls than me in the room. No way was my natural beauty shining through, since I don't possess any. I'm totally plain and average looking. I'm so not pretty at all.

Of all the losers, however, Puppy Boy was the most resilient. Even viciously knocking him against a metal locker, so hard that he bounced off it and fell facedown into a nearby trash can, had no effect. Of course, I neatly disguised it as an accidental little push, but _still_. I was beginning to think he might have a secret stash of 1-Ups hidden about his person.

Just like a loyal, abused puppy, he followed at my heels all the way up until lunch. I managed to fix it so that I was seated far away from him, but the whole time I had to put up with him shooting me insipid little looks of yearning that made me want to gag.

The only positive thing about my association with him was that I didn't have to bother to try to make friends. Like a queen holding court, people approached me. They must just be interested in me because I'm a new face around here, I reasoned. And best of all, no girls tried to stab me.

But there was something in the cafeteria that had grabbed my attention, so much that I was held in a trance of epic proportions. Like a giant, sparkly Rottweiler at my neck, it sank its fangs into me, shook me like a ragdoll and refused to let go.

"So, Foxface," I said to the girl across the table from me. Puppy Boy had introduced me to her earlier.

"I'm Jessica," Foxface growled.

"Yes, Foxface," I smiled serenely at her. I sensed right away this girl was clearly a wily, cunning little bitch who must be destroyed, because my instincts are never wrong. "Who's that hottie over there, the guy with bronze highlights in his messy, yet tastefully-cut blond hair? You know, the one holding that loaf of warm, crusty bread?"

I couldn't stop staring at him. Shafts of sunlight streamed down upon him through the cafeteria windows, making him glow and appear all shiny and sparkly, like a diamond refracting in the sunlight. His pale, glittery beauty was in sharp contrast to Gaylob's rugged, wolfish charms.

"Eww," Foxface said, wrinkling her snub, freckly nose.

Unbelievably, some people actually considered her pretty, but I sure as hell didn't. She had sleek, red hair and a face that reminded me of a fox. She looked too sly to be considered a good person.

There was only one other girl at my table worth mentioning: Glasses Girl. She was really plain and boring-looking, and therefore not a threat at all. I couldn't figure out why Foxface kept calling her "Madgela" though, when "Glasses Girl" was clearly the only name she'd ever need.

"That's Peeward Column. His middle name is Roman. He's a baker's son. He thinks he's _sooo_ hot," Foxface sniffed, in a way that led me to automatically assume he must've rejected her advances.

But that hotbod with the stylishly-messy hair was looking my way. Despite the fact that there were at least five other random girls whom I hated, all sharing a table with me, I was certain he was staring only at me.

Shivers ran down my spine in a way that made me feel deliciously unchaste. I threw back my head and a sudden breeze whipped through my long, glossy raven hair. I'm not too sure where it came from, since all the windows were closed. But I couldn't understand why he was looking at me, because I'm not attractive at all.

_Oh, I get it_, my interior monologue said. _He thinks I'm hungry and I'm checking out his bread_. It all made sense now.

Weirdly, he looked at me, then quickly looked away, then looked back at me and frowned, like he was really puzzled, but I couldn't figure out why he would be. Then he started sniffing the warm, crusty loaf, like it was the only thing in the world he desired right now, but for some reason he couldn't have it. He seemed overly-protective of the bread, and I couldn't fathom why.

All of a sudden it hit me, and I felt like a genius for having figured it out so quickly.

He probably thinks I'm _after_ his loaf of bread, I thought. Like, he thinks I want him to give it to me. Guiltily, I looked away. I didn't want him thinking that, or I'd feel like I owed him something, and I hate owing people.

I realized this was the moment when the Tragic Love Triangle was born. Peeward Column loved Bread. I loved Peeward Column. The Bread naturally loved Peeward too. Naturally, I hated the Bread, for being my rival in love. The only way to win Peeward would be to destroy the Bread. I would do this by catching the Bread unawares. First I would pretend to be its friend and get it on my side, then mercilessly destroy their shared love.

In order to do this, however, I decided I needed to find out more about him, so I felt really pleased that my subtle opening question about The Hot Boy With The Bread had gotten Foxface talking some more.

"See those other people with him?" she asked in a sly, conspiratorial whisper. "Those are his *cough*siblings*cough* but they're like, you know, _together_," she said in a knowing voice.

My steely gray eyes widened in surprise and became a little smoky. I glanced over at his table, and at his companions, but since I don't plan on mentioning any of them again, I won't bother describing them.

"They're like, adopted," Foxface was saying. "By President Snowball and his wife."

I blinked, momentarily confused. "His dad is Fox Mulder?" I asked confusedly.

Foxface rolled her eyes at me. "_Who?_ I said President Snowball," she repeated slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly dim-witted child.

Belatedly, I realized that I'd gotten the name muddled because I was thinking of how much she resembled a fox, and then she had to ruin my train of thought by saying a trigger word like "Snowball." It caused me to remember that X-Files episode when Mulder got lost in the Arctic or some other place really cold and met that mean-looking alien guy who oozed poisonous green blood.

I noticed Foxface smirking at my slip-up. The bitch didn't even bother to disguise it. I pasted a smile on my face but inwardly, I was seething with fury at her for treating me like a moron. I silently vowed to pay her back for this, one way or another. After the Bread, she was my next target.

For now though, I sat back in my seat and considered her words. Like everyone else, I knew who President Snowball was. Obviously, I'd never had the privilege of meeting him in person, but I'd seen him on TV plenty.

He's a blond bishounen who smells of roses. He has a deformed minion who scampers ahead of him, throwing down rose petals on the path before him. This means that roses always bloom wherever President Snowball treads.

Years ago, he waged an epic battle and defeated a silver-haired bishounen named Sephiroth, and became President. That battle went down in history as the first of its kind, when a Giant Frozen Snowball overcame a Giant Blazing Meteor. Sephiroth had wanted to take over the world, so everyone was really pleased when Snowball seized power without first asking anyone if it was okay. But the really important thing is that President Snowball presides over the Starvation Games.

I wanted to encourage this line of conversation, but I didn't want to appear too eager. And that's when I had a sudden, brilliant idea.

"So," I began carefully, working hard to keep my tone nonchalant. "Have any of you ever met him? President Snowball, I mean?"

I thought Glasses Girl would be a good source of information since, wearing glasses, she must naturally be incredibly smart, but she seemed content to let Foxface do all the talking.

"As if!" Foxface scoffed. You only get to meet him if you get picked for the Starvation Games."

Yes! I silently exulted. She totally fell for my bait. Now I just needed to keep her talking.

"Surely _you've_ been picked before though? Someone as pretty as you, I mean." I pretended to be absorbed in a bite of my Twinkie, while secretly keeping an eye on her for a reaction. It's a good thing I had that Twinkie to hide behind, too, since I felt like gagging after saying something so revolting.

Appealing to one's vanity is a great way to get information. I knew my strategy was made of win when she totally got sidetracked by my compliment and started spewing all kinds of useful stuff.

Like, how only good-looking kids between the ages of fourteen to eighteen ever get picked for the Starvation Games. The cameras are on you at all times, and you're beamed live across Teh Ruling Eevil Capitol, into the homes of every citizen.

The Games are basically one giant popularity contest, where boys and girls are pitted against each other in this huge arena called high school, and the one who stabs everyone else in the back is crowned the winner and becomes the Queen. Or King. It could be a guy who wins. You never know. But usually it's a girl because girls are really hateful and whiny and bitchy and just, you know, competition for resources, namely boys. So instead of feeling starved for attention, we have the Starvation Games, so we can fight it out and one person gets to be declared the victor. The one most deserving, as in most starved, for attention wins. Or it could be least starved. I'm still a little confused over that part.

So anyway, even though it's the smallest and lamest district, Spoons is like the sunniest place in the entire world. That's why we hold the yearly Starvation Games here. It's the best place for it because in the sunshine, we can all sparkle and look our best.

Most importantly, it was a foregone conclusion that Peeward Column would be selected.

Peeward Column. I let out a dramatic sigh. Even his name sounded exotic and dangerous. Maybe not as wild and bad boy-like as Gaylob Blackthorn, but his name had a certain distinguished ring to it. Peeward Column continued to cast pallid, angsty glances in my direction while I ate, but I wanted his midnight-black eyes to burn with the crimson flames of smoldering desire for me, not for the loaf of warm, crusty bread he was desperately holding on to, or for the Twinkie I was nibbling on slowly with careful, elegant little bites.

I acted like I had only a passing interest in the Games, but already I was secretly plotting to get picked and to win. I didn't care who I had to step over to do it. I wanted to be crowned the victor, so the Hot Boy With The Bread would have no excuse not to notice me.

After excusing myself early from lunch, I started working on my gameplan right away.

I purchased two dozen loaves of bread and rubbed them all over me. For the special, finishing touch, I crumbled a brioche roll to pieces and sprinkled it all over my hair.

Gazing at my reflection in the mirror of the girls' bathroom, I was struck by the abrupt change in me. I almost fell over from the shock, too, but then I remembered I was alone in here, so there was literally no point.

Full of wonder, I stepped closer to the glass. I couldn't believe that this beautiful, vulnerable-looking girl was actually _me_.

My eyes were like soft pools of molten silver. There was a faint, rosy blush on my delicate, sculpted cheekbones. Contrasting sharply against the glossy, raven black of my hair, the golden brioche crumbs glinted like tiny, distant stars in the inky, midnight sky.

Mesmerized, I gazed in bewilderment at this bewitching, ethereal girl for like, twenty minutes. Finally, I had to tear myself away, because I suddenly remembered I had Something Important To Do.

With my heart pounding painfully within the prison of my ample bosom, I carefully rearranged the breadcrumbs on my deliberately-average clothing, then stepped toward the exit, which seemed like a million miles away right then.

I took a deep, calming breath and counted to one thousand and two.

Then I made my way to biology class, where I knew the Hot Boy With The Bread, and my destiny, awaited me.

_Chapter Three End_


End file.
